Eyes in the Sky
As the flock of sheep munched the new shoots of grass moist
with dew, they kept a wary eye on the weird creature that had come into their
field yet again. It was scary and they wished it would go away. The hair
protruding from the tight garment it wore was the shade of midnight and it kept
glancing up apprehensively. The only things in the sky that bothered the sheep
were crows, and other birds which swooped down to snatch beakfuls of wool to
line their nests.
Donald’s flock watched the strange creature push samples of
grass and other forage into a flask, no doubt for a snack later, though
everything about it indicated it would prefer a diet of raw meat. The furtive
behaviour also suggested it was hiding from something else. It was unlikely to
be Donald’s sheepdog. The shepherd was in his hut watching a film on an ancient
laptop and there was no point in sending out Marchbanks. The dog was a
toothless old collie that only recognised a sheep from three feet away.
Goodness only knew what it would have made of the tall intruder in a suit that
shimmered like petrol on water.
But help was on the way.
Here came little Daisy Daziel. She would know what to do.
She was very bright for a five-year-old and scared of nothing. And sure enough,
she trotted over to the menacing creature and stood staring at it, hard. The
flock of sheep backed away, bleating apprehensively, half expecting it to eat
her. Instead the interloper stared back, the short horns just visible as its
dense hair parted when it threw back its head defiantly.
“You shouldn’t be here. Donald doesn’t like strangers in the
same field as his sheep,” Daisy admonished.
The creature put its head on one side and warbled with a
strange melodic tone out of place coming from such a fearsome, fanged mouth.
“I will tell Parson Jamie and he will tell God,” Daisy
continued to scold. “The Devil has no right coming here.”
The warble became high-pitched as though the visitor
understood every word.
“You go away now,” ordered Daisy and strode off to find out
what film Donald was watching on his laptop.
Anyone older would have probably run for their life or had
hysterics at encountering the demonic intruder, but this small island dweller
was made of stern stuff.
“We should stop Marba secretly entering the experiment to
collect all these samples,” the Controller said. “Once these creatures realise
that they are no longer on their own planet, all reaction will cease to be
natural.”
“At least that young specimen does not seem to be very
concerned,” agreed nes organiser. (Human gender pronouns do not apply to
members of this species as they don’t have different sexes.) “But we should
really tell nem to come back in. Ne thinks we don’t know what ne is doing. I
know Marba has an interest in the vegetation of different planets, but this
venture is too serious to waste time on green material.”
Daisy reached the stone wall and turned just in time to see
the strange creature fade from sight. She had come to expect it from this
annoying trespasser. “I wish it wouldn’t do that.”
The five-year-old had been insisting that something strange
was going on for weeks, but her parents and neighbours had put it down to an
overactive imagination. However, the persistent nagging that they were not
really where they thought they were was beginning to wear down their patience.
Life was already hard enough on the remote island of their forebears; they
didn’t need an infant adding confusion to it. The sooner Daisy was packed off
to school the better. Perhaps there she would learn to rein in her flights of
fancy and stop describing horned beings that weren’t goats, and seeing bat-like
creatures circling the cliffs. Her most disturbing claim was that there were
eyes everywhere, embedded in the rocks, peering out from the eaves of the community
hall, and from the sky.
Her older brother, Thomas, was a much gentler soul who could
not have dreamt up such dreadful things. Yet he still listened to his small
sister as though she had wisdom lacking in older people. Perhaps their down-to-earth
lives prevented them from seeing things they did not expect. Adults were like
that and Daisy was not yet mature enough to know when to keep quiet.
“And they are up there, watching us all the time,” Daisy
whispered to Thomas when their parents couldn’t hear.
“That’s very silly, Daisy.”
“Then tell me why you haven’t been going to school?”
“Because the ferry hasn’t been able to reach us.” Thomas
assumed that there was a very good reason and never enjoyed the crossing
anyway, especially when the sea was rough. It would also be some time before
the weather turned and they needed winter provisions. “Perhaps the engine is
giving trouble? It is very old. And Mr Singh has enough groceries to keep the
island supplied for weeks, so it probably doesn’t matter too much.”
“Of course it does, you stupid boy,” Daisy scolded. “How do
you expect to learn anything if you can’t get to school? And Mr Singh’s
supplies should have run out long ago, but nobody seems to wonder where the new
ones are coming from. There aren’t any other ferries and we would have heard a
helicopter.”
Thomas was beginning to understand why the way Daisy saw
things so worried the adults. It was as though everyone above the age of seven
had been inoculated against noticing the obvious, but he was too afraid to
believe his young sister’s insistence
that something was wrong. Knowing that Daisy was an honest child with a vivid
imagination, yet would never lie, worried him.
“That child has awareness beyond normal for her species,”
Marba insisted.
“That is why the research will be ruined if the others start
to believe her, and all the more reason you should keep away,” warned the
Controller.
“Perhaps we can talk to her?”
“And tell her what? Aliens have transported her island to
another planet to monitor the mentality of a species which could be dangerous
if it ever manages to travel into space?”
“The Ruling Council insists it must be done. Humans cannot
be let loose in the Galaxy until their reaction to stress has been assessed,”
added the organiser. This child may not be alarmed by an alien, but the older
of her species could behave differently. The only way to test their reactions
without endangering ourselves is to measure what they do in an unexpected
catastrophe."
"Your small friend cannot be there when it
happens," insisted the Controller.
“But Daisy is only an infant,” Marba protested.
“And they are the most perceptive. The members of this
species stop seeing clearly as they grow older and only comprehend things as
they want them to be. That is why they could be dangerous.”
Observations of larger human communities had been
inconclusive and complicated by too many other factors. The only problem in
this remote island community was Daisy. She might work out that her island had
been temporarily replaced by a replica to prevent raising the suspicions of the
outside world. The researchers could not take the risk of the adults believing
her.
Daisy was reading a book with one hand and combing her teddy
bear’s fur with the other.
Suddenly she was no longer in front of the stove in the farmhouse
scullery. This new place was airy and bright, and filled with people like the
interloper she scolded whenever she saw it. And they all made that strange
warbling noise.
Daisy, still clutching her teddy and book, stretched to her
full height of almost three and a half feet. “Why can’t you speak properly?
It’s very rude to do that.”
“Ignore her,” the Controller told the others. “Just start
the experiment.”
Marba disregarded the order and warbled at the five-year-old,
“Everything is alright, Daisy. It will be over soon.”
To her amazement, Daisy could understand the alien. “What
are you going to do?”
The Controller had no idea that young humans needed to be
humoured. “This trial will determine whether your species shall be confined to
its planet for perpetuity.”
“What’s that?” she demanded.
“Forever,” Marba explained.
“Strange creatures like you shouldn’t use long words.”
“This isn’t really helping us come to a decision,” Marba
quietly chided.
Daisy didn’t like the sound of that so
decided to keep quiet. She took her teddy over to a large window and looked
down on her island. It was no longer in the middle of a cold, deep sea in
Earth’s northern hemisphere. The horizon surrounding it boiled like the surface
of the sun, only it was intense blue. Daisy already knew that her people hadn’t
really been where they thought they were, but she hadn’t expected this.
She squealed in fright.
“It’s all right, nobody will be hurt,”
Marba reassured her, “Everything will soon return to normal and you won’t
remember this ever happened.”
The alien’s soft warbling tone did not
comfort the five-year-old as the sky above the island merged with the sky and
became a curtain of roiling fury, threatening to shed liquid rage on its
inhabitants.
Daisy’s mother was leading the search party
frantically searching for her young daughter. She had to be found before the
storm came. Having always lived on the island, she knew everything the elements
could throw at it. Those not searching brought in the flocks and ensured the
children and elderly were safe in the solid-walled kirk. The strong roof which
had weathered hundreds of storms was their best protection. Parson Jamie
encouraged his congregation to join in prayer for the deliverance of the lost
child and their survival while the elements churned into a tempest even JM
Turner would have found it difficult to paint
The Controller was puzzled by the islanders' stoical
reaction. “What are they doing?”
“They call it praying,” explained Marba. “These beings
believe in supreme deities that have created and control all things. Others use
this conviction called religion as an excuse to slaughter each other.”
“This is not what I had expected.”
“Isolated as they are, how else could they react?” Marba
chided.
The Controller recalled the vegetation lover’s original
objection to using this small community for their research, but its isolation
had been too convenient. It would have been impossible to relocate a larger,
land-locked population where reactions were more likely to represent human
nature.
“Why didn’t you mention this thing called religion before?”
“I wasn’t aware of their beliefs until Daisy mistook me for
this Devil, the entity they regard as the evil opposition to her God.”
The Controller realised the futility of the test. “Stop the
experiment.”
The soft warbling of the team fell silent.
It was broken by Daisy’s piercing voice, “You don’t know
much, do you?”
Being exposed to the environment of the alien observation
centre had enhanced the five-year-old’s understanding to that of an adult’s.
Daisy hardly knew where the words were coming from, only that they made
terrible sense.
“The people on my island would never turn on each other -
that’s what you expected them to do, wasn’t it?”
“We need to measure how stress triggers conflict amongst
your species,” explained Marba.
“Then look at the rest of the world - not us!” Daisy
snapped. “We’re not guinea pigs!”
“The catastrophes it would be necessary to trigger on a much
larger population are proscribed,” the Controller was obliged to explain.
“There are already disasters happening, and most of them
caused by people. Why do you need to experiment on us?”
“It is the only alternative we have to the opinion of an
expert who knows your species well. We have been unable to find one.”
Daisy stamped petulantly. “Well, if I tell you that humans
should never be allowed into space until they grow up, would that be expert
enough for you?”
“But you are a human. Why would you do that?”
“Because on our island we can see the rest of the world for
what it is. That’s why we like it where we are.”
Daisy suddenly woke from a strange dream. She was by the
scullery stove clutching her book and teddy bear. The sun was setting and in
the distance the local ferry could be seen on the horizon, sailing towards the
island on a calm sea.
Her mother and brother were fast asleep in the parlour
armchairs, so she put on her coat to help Donald bring the sheep into their
fold. Marchbanks, his old collie, was no longer much help and Donnie, the new
sheepdog, was too fond of nipping their legs and needed to be trained up more.
It transpired that the rest of the island had also suffered
from the sleeping sickness, though soon recovered. It was a relief to have the
ferry back so Mr Singh could stock up his groceries. Then, when it was no
longer able to reach them, they would be cushioned from the rest of the
tumultuous world.
The remote community watched the warning being broadcast to
the whole planet from outer space. It hardly seemed important.
No one on the island wanted to travel into the Galaxy and
colonise other worlds anyway.